


In The Aftermath

by SixtySevenChevy



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drift Side Effects, M/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixtySevenChevy/pseuds/SixtySevenChevy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shatterdome has been one massive celebration all night, nonstop and incredibly loud. Newt slept through it. He eventually emerges from the depths of his room and limps his way to the mess hall, where he learns a few interesting things about a certain colleague of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I??? don't know what to say??? I wrote this at like two in the morning so forgive anything I did horribly wrong. This includes anyone being slightly OOC, a very limited knowledge of how many stairs are actually in the Shatterdome, and poor writing.

Newt supposed it all started when he decided to Drift with a kaiju in the first place, but to admit that would be to admit that he was at least partially at fault, so he chose to ignore that and instead blame the entire thing on Hermann. That was always a good fallback plan, as Hermann was adept at ignoring anything and everything Newt said in general, and the blame would bounce right off him, usually with an eye roll or a semi-threatening glare if Newt didn’t shut up quickly. So really, blaming Hermann was only the safest course of action. 

Of course, when Newt woke up at what-the-fuck o’clock in the morning after getting exactly no sleep for four days, blame was the furthest thing from his mind. His first thought was more along the lines of “I just saved the entire world don’t I deserve to sleep for more than two hours oh my god why me what did I do to deserve this” and so on. His second thought was “fuck why is it so cold in here and why isn’t there another person in this bed with me.” His third thought was “wait why would there be anyone else in here in the first place and why do I want there to be.” His fourth thought was actually not a thought at all, and more of a realization of sudden and intense pain in one of his legs. 

He groaned and rolled over, chalking it up to exhaustion and sleeping in the wrong position for too long, and went back to sleep.

XXXXX

When Newt woke up again, the clock on the wall told him that he’d slept for about nine hours total, which was far more sleep than he’d gotten at once in almost a decade. Stretching, he contemplated the repercussions of just staying in bed all day. After a minute or two of deliberation, he decided against it, choosing to go be congratulated on his successes instead, even if his leg was still somewhat sore from all the running yesterday and it would hurt to go up and down all those stairs. He supposed that he could push for the installation of more elevators, now that the Breach was closed and everyone had more time on their hands. That is, if the city didn’t just take the Shatterdome back.

Newt threw on a battered old t-shirt and a pair of jeans that needed washed badly. He finger-combed his hair and brushed his teeth and left it at that. He’d definitely dressed worse in the recent weeks. The end of the world will change your perceptions of what’s socially acceptable, that’s for sure. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. Or socks.

The door was heavy and cold, metal hinges groaning as he hauled it open. The concrete floor stung his bare feet, but he didn’t really see the point of hobbling back into his room to find shoes. His entire living quarters was a disaster zone. He’d only spent about an hour a day there for the whole time he’d been at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, but somehow it had gotten cluttered beyond belief. He was pretty sure that within another week he’d clean it at some point, but you never know. 

It seemed that he’d picked the right moment to emerge from his cave, for at the exact same time as Newt was closing his door, Hermann opened his. Their rooms were right across the hall from each other, but they’d never really seen each other coming and going. Their sleep schedules were both so messed up that they almost never slept at the same time, if at all. 

“Morning, man!” Newt called, far too loud for the short distance between them. Hermann settled an intense look of distaste in Newt’s direction and sighed heavily, as if wondering exactly why he should be forced to socialize with such a moron so early in the morning. Newt ignored this and slung an arm around his fellow world-saver’s shoulders, careful not to lean on him too heavily. 

“What on Earth are you wearing?” was Hermann’s only reply, and Newt rolled his mismatched eyes.

“Whatever I could find that wasn’t splattered with guts,” he replied, retracting his arm from around Hermann’s shoulders and beginning the long walk to the more populated floors of the Shatterdome. If the heavy bass he could still hear was any indication, the celebrations had continued through the night and had still not stopped. 

Hermann muttered angrily under his breath but followed Newt all the same, and together they made slow progress through the darkened halls. They were still running on mainly emergency power and generators after the electromagnetic pulse from the kaiju had knocked out all their systems. That didn’t stop people from hanging out in groups around the few lights that were turned on and using all the electronics they wanted. It also didn’t stop the crew from Cherno Alpha from blasting Ukrainian hard house from all available speakers, or the crew from Crimson Typhoon turning on all available televisions and watching the news raptly, only pausing to translate for the other crews. 

The stairs were awful, as expected. Newt’s entire body was one giant abrasion, coated with a thick layer of bruise and topped off with what was probably a sprained ankle and that incessant ache in his leg. Hermann didn’t seem to be having as much trouble, though, so Newt refrained from complaining. The last thing he wanted was to be made fun of for being a total wimp.

“Hey, Dr. Geiszler!” Newt turned, grinning when he saw Raleigh sprinting up the stairs toward him. “Tendo is looking for you.”

“Of course he is,” Newt replied. “I’m awesome. Why wouldn’t anyone want to find me?”

“I can give them a reason,” Hermann muttered under his breath, and continued on his way. Newt stared after him, wondering whether he should start an argument or not. Raleigh gave him a sympathetic look, as if he understood exactly the hardships Newt went through on a daily basis to work with such an uptight partner. What Newt didn’t let on was that it wasn’t actually that much of a hardship. In fact, he and Hermann were actually close friends, in their own roundabout, shouting, arguing, angry way. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s just grumpy because the Russians were blaring their rock music all night and he’s a light sleeper,” Newt said, and then blinked and wondered exactly how he knew that. Raleigh chuckled and patted Newt on the back.

“Don’t worry. It’s just the post-Drift hangover. It’ll be gone within a few days, I promise. Weird while it happens, but it fades pretty quick,” he assured Newt, and then he was gone, loping off back down the stairs while calling for Mako. Newt wondered briefly how long it would be before the two eventually hooked up. Probably not long. They had that look in their eyes when they talked to each other.

Good thing he almost never actually had civil conversations with Hermann, or someone might notice the same look. Only difference was, his was one-sided.

Newt continued his way up the truly astounding amount of stairs, trying to stifle occasional winces when he twisted his knee the wrong way. He was really going to have to visit medical at some point to get that checked out, though he’d probably wait a week or so, just to make sure it wasn’t going to heal on its own. If there was one thing Newton Geiszler hated more than anything, it was hospitals. He’d avoid them at all costs, including his own wellbeing. 

When he finally reached the floor that housed the main public areas—jaeger bay, mess hall, that kind of thing—he was almost panting and definitively exhausted. He felt like a very old man. It took ages to find his way to the mess.

He almost went back down to his room to get more sleep, but Tendo Choi stopped him with a firm, giddy hand on his shoulder and a pleased cry of “Newt!”

“Hi, Tendo,” Newt replied, and Tendo laughed. He smelled like alcohol, but not so strongly that Newt would fear for his safety. The circles under his eyes told a story of sleepless nights, but the crow’s feet at their corners directly contradicted this and instead insisted that this was a man who lived happily, freely, and had no worries. Not for the first time, Newt wondered exactly what Tendo had been doing before he came to join the PPDC. 

“Dude, you slept through all the parties. People were toasting to you, and you were snoring,” Tendo scolded, making an obvious effort to frown at him. It didn’t last. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how awesome you are. Also a dumbass. I mean, who the hell sees an alien brain and just thinks, _‘Yeah, I’m gonna stick my consciousness inside it and everything will be peachy.’_ Seriously.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Newt countered, and Tendo laughed again. 

“Whatever, man. I’m gonna go call my wife. I’m going home soon! I’m gonna see my kid!” His grin was so wide that Newt was almost worried that he’d hurt himself. Actually, every single person still awake had the same exact expression. Most of them were battered, exhausted, bloodied and tear-streaked but alive, alive and safe and going home to their families and it was all because of the very people in this building. They’d saved the world. Together.

“It’s all so amazing,” Newt murmured, and Tendo nodded silently. 

“And it’s all thanks to you and your angry mathematician. Also me. And, you know, the Rangers. And Marshall Pentecost. And the city of Hong Kong for letting us use their Shatterdome. And—”

“Okay, Tendo, time for you to go to bed,” Newt ordered, and pushed Tendo’s hand off its perch on Newt’s shoulder. For a split second Tendo almost looked annoyed, but it vanished quickly in favor of that blissful relief that had settled over the entire world. He waved good-naturedly and pulled a cracked phone from his pocket, dialing with an intensity seen only in people who needed to deliver urgent good news. 

“Allison! Babe, I have something wonderful to tell you!” he shouted, and then he was gone and Newt was alone in a crowd of survivors. He leaned against a wall and surveyed his surroundings happily, shifting his weight to the leg that didn’t hurt. 

All around, people were celebrating. At least six couples were making out in corners. The Cherno crew was drinking heavily, loud music playing from speakers they’d set up around their customary tables. The Typhoon crew was mostly gone, having left for their homes as soon as they’d been able to, and the few that were left had mostly gathered in the hallways on the lower floors and clustered around televisions that were covering the story of the attack on Hong Kong. The overworked crews of Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka were mostly sprawled on the floor asleep, forcing everyone else to be very careful not to step on them. Other assorted techs and workers buzzed from clique to clique, sometimes gathering in little groups to converse about nothing. It was amazing. People were having actual conversations about things that weren’t life-and-death. 

Newt smiled to himself and closed his eyes, wondering at the pure happiness that swelled all over the globe. Not a little bit thanks to him. 

“There you are,” Hermann said, and Newt wasn’t even surprised. For someone who was usually muttering about numbers under his breath or shouting at Newt to keep kaiju entrails on the biological side of the lab, he was really quite stealthy, but Newt had known he was there for about a second and a half before he’d made himself known. Hermann was leaning against the wall, shoulder bumping against Newt’s. Newt could feel the heat between his thin t-shirt and Hermann’s ugly sweater-thing. He made a mental note to force Hermann to dress his age, now that he actually had time for things like mental notes and worrying about looks. God, normal life was going to be stressful.

“Here I am,” Newt replied simply.

“I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes,” Hermann scolded, and Newt tried very hard not to feel like a puppy being yelled at for shredding the newspaper. He was about to make an angry remark, but when he turned to face Hermann, the other man’s eyes held no malice. In fact, they were possibly a bit… fond? Newt stopped that speculation before it had a chance to even start. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them quashed.

“Yeah, sorry. It took longer than usual to climb the stairs. I must have pulled something in my leg. It hurts like a bitch,” he explained. Hermann nodded in sympathy.

“That’s most likely the ghost drift. I apologize, but it should be gone within a week. In the meantime, I suggest you refrain from anything too strenuous.”

“Are you seriously telling me that I hurt because you hurt?”

“That does seem to be the case.”

Newt frowned, suddenly contemplating something very important. He remembered that morning, waking up and wishing someone else were in bed with him, but not knowing exactly why he felt that way. He remembered the fact that he’d known exactly where Hermann was before he’d made his presence known. If those events were connected… “So if you’re feeling something really strongly, then I’ll feel it too?” 

“Most likely, yes,” Hermann confirmed, and Newt decided to try something. Something reckless, something dangerous, something life-threatening. Even more so than Drifting with a kaiju not once, but twice, in the same day and without any semblance of a plan or proper equipment. Even more so than everything else he’d done in the name of science in the past twelve years.

He kissed Hermann.

Hermann froze.

And then he kissed back.

It didn’t last long, and it was far from perfect, but Newt still saw stars. He pulled back, but only about an inch, only far enough to stare at Hermann’s face and wonder why the hell he didn’t try this sooner. Hermann smiled, just a tiny one, but it was enough for Newt to realize that he was thinking the exact same thing.

“So. I suppose it really is like the fairy tales, huh?” Newt asked, not moving away. “You know, save the world, get the girl…”

Hermann pushed him away with mock-disgust, but both of them were laughing. He rolled his mismatched eyes skyward and asked the ceiling, “Why must you cheapen everything?”

“You love it,” Newt replied, with more than a little self-assurance.

“I don’t know what gave you that impression,” Hermann grumbled. Which was basically a confirmation, coming from him.

The smile that lit up Newt’s face was greater than any other smile in the Shatterdome.


End file.
